A lion's claws
by SapphireLion92
Summary: "The world will never forget what you are, wear it like armour, so it can never be used to hurt you" - The eldest daughter of Ned Stark, Neasa, learns that there is more to the Lion of Lannister than meets the eye. Jaime learns that not all wolves need a pack, some prefer the company of a lion. But will the world let them forget what they are? Can a wolf love a lion? [Jaime / OC]
1. Chapter 1

**Hello and welcome! I didn't plan to write any fanfiction again, but after being once again obsessed with Game of Thrones and Jaime Lannister I simply had to try my luck with this one - I hope some of you like it and I like it even more, if you let me know what you think - good or bad, anything is appreciated! Please note that English is not my mother tongue, but I hope I don't make too many mistakes! Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything, except for Neasa which is entirely my own creation! The whole world of GOT belongs to George R. R. Martin and HBO for the visuals!

**1 – Arrival in Winterfell**

JAIME

The farther north they got the colder and more gloomy the weather seemed to get and the colder the looks of the people they met became. Southerners were not welcome here. Even less when they wore the red and gold of the Lannisters and had lions embroidered on every spare scrap of cloth. But then again even without the lions and the king for a companion everyone would have known their names. With their golden hair and green eyes they were not really hard to guess. And seeing the three of them together gave it all away.

Cersei Lannister, wife to Robert Baratheon, King of Westeros. Tyrion Lannister – the imp; wicked dwarf brother to Tywin Lannisters golden twins. And himself: Jaime Lannister, best swordsman in the seven kingdoms, knight of the kingsguard and -

"Kingslayer!" a booming voice called for him and Jaime brought his horse next to the man who it belonged to. "Your grace?" he inclined his head in a mocking display of respect which thankfully remained unnoticed by the king. He was hated enough as it was but he did not do well with authorities and King Robert was one of his least favourites. The feeling was mutual. "Stay where I can see you, Lannister. I don't like the feeling of you behind my back." The King laughed heartily and Jaime clenched his jaw in anger at this not so subtle jest. None of them had any idea what he had done that day. None. Not the king and also not the oh so honourable Ned Stark. He urged his horse forward, letting his anger out on the poor creature and galloping away from the king. Kingslayer. That was the only name they ever had for him. No matter how mad Aerys had been, no matter what he did. He was the one who forsake his vow to rid Westeros of the mad king – and they called him kingslayer for it.

The road was muddy and difficult, even his surefooted mare had trouble with it but Jaime pushed her on. The rush of cold winds against his face and the physical exertion of riding being a welcome distraction to his whirling emotions. He couldn't keep going for long though. Soon the destination came into view and he stopped in the middle of the road – the king, his entourage and the carriages far behind him. Winterfell. Home to the Warden of the north Eddard Stark and his family. Robert's friend who helped him win the rebellion and who he now planned to anoint Hand. Jaime let his eyes stray a little left of the castle to a small hill where he saw a single rider on the lookout. He was riding an auburn coloured horse and next to him stood a large dog. As if the rider had felt his eyes on them, he turned his horse around and galloped back towards the castle.

NEASA

She hated the buzz and the preparations that seemed to go on without end since the raven from King's Landing arrived. Orders were shouted, men and women alike hurried over the castle grounds like busy bees and everyone's nerves seemed on edge. Her mother was the worst trying to get everything looking its best and constantly complaining to one of her children about one thing or another. Their attire, their hair, the way they looked. It had all gotten too much and so Neasa jumped at the idea of fleeing the castle for a bit and having a lookout for the king and his entourage. She had saddled her stallion and called for her wolf Blue who she'd named after the colour of her eyes and left the castle in a quick canter. The fields stretched before them the grass short and springy. The ground was hard from the cold air but not yet frozen. Her horse had enjoyed the run as had Blue who stayed close to her side. 'Don't go too far' her father had said and so she reluctantly reigned her horse in on the top of a small hill that overlooked the Kingsroad. There was not much to be seen except the dirty muddy track that wounds its way towards Winterfell like a giant snake. No riders or carriages of any kind and Neasa was sure the King's travelling company would not be that inconspicuous. As she strained her eyes and stared further south the suddenly noticed a single rider emerging in the distance. His steed was white as was the large cloak billowing behind him. She almost thought he was a rushing messenger but just in that moment he stopped his horse and stared at the castle in the distance. Neasa hesitated. She could see him a little better now. He was a knight she guessed from the armour he wore and not just any knight – a knight of the kingsguard. His armour was golden and the cloak white so he must be. The king couldn't be far off then – perhaps this one had been sent ahead as a scout. Preparing to leave Neasa gathered the reigns up again when she felt his eyes on her. Even across the distance his look made her uncomfortable and she quickly turned around and headed back towards Winterfell.

"The king is coming. I saw his entourage from the hillside." She said as she jumped off Bale's saddle and handed the horse to one of the stable boys. Her father and mother already approaching her. "They were just coming up the kingsroad. At first I saw just one rider, a scout maybe, but he is a kingsguard and when I left the rest of them was coming into view. They will be here before long." She stated and her father nodded. "Alright, we will greet them. Everyone assemble in the yard!" he called. "Neasa, get changed and bring your sisters along." Catelyn told her daughter who simply nodded and hurried off, her wolf on her heels.

Neasa hurried back inside, already discarding some of her clothing along the way. Upon entering her room she threw her cloak and riding gloves onto the huge chest at the foot of her bed and then changed into a woollen dress. "Are they here?" Sansa, her younger sister had entered the room almost without her noticing and Neasa nodded. "Almost. Get Arya and meet mother and father outside. I'll be there in a minute." She said and fastened a heavy coat rimmed with grey fur around her shoulders. Her hair was still a little tousled from the ride but there was no time to braid it now. The king would have to do without an intricate hairstyle on her part. Signalling Blue to stay right where she was on Neasa's bed she left her room and almost flew down the stairs, tousling her auburn hair further in the process.

She arrived precisely on time. Everyone else was already assembled. Her parents and next to them her brothers and sister. Between her mother and Robb a spot was left for her to stand in. Her mother shot her a disapproving glance and opened her mouth to probably comment on her hair when Neasa was saved by two riders announcing the king's arrival. She instantly recognised one of them or rather his horse. It was the same man she had seen watching her. His horse was as white as the coat around his shoulders and much slimmer than she had it anticipated to be. This was no great warhorse but instead a nimble and quick beast clearly able to outrun most others. Before her eyes could settle on the rider though the booming voice of another tore her eyes away. The king was a bulky men with almost no neck and black beard and hair. He was also quite fat even though still strong she presumed. His horse was a heavy black steed matching his owner in stature. He dismounted just as ungraceful as Neasa expected and walked towards her father.

"You've got fat." Was all he said as a greeting and Neasa's head shot up. Fat?! The surely did not have any mirrors in King's Landing then. Her father did not react verbally though. He only shot the man in front of him a look, eyeing his belly and raising his eyebrows ever so slightly. Suddenly the king's booming laughter exploded across the castle grounds before he embraced her father and kissed her mother's cheek. "And you must be the oldest Stark then. What is your name, darling?" The king addressed her and Neasa quickly bowed a second time. "Neasa, you Grace." She said and held his gaze. He nodded before he moved on to her siblings. The boys were of much more interest to him but he still said a few polite words to every one of her siblings. Neasa's attention shifted yet again to the other members of the king's household. The Queen had left her carriage, pulling her furcoat tighter around her. The climate here must be so much harsher than in King's Landing. She was a beautiful yet cold woman with long tresses of golden hair and green eyes. She looked every bit as regal as her position but there was no warmth in her eyes. The children all looked slightly nervous, especially the two younger ones. The all had the golden hair of their mother. The trademark of the Lannisters. Only the crown prince, Joffrey, carried a certain arrogance around him that Neasa disliked from the very beginning. He looked at them all as if they were below him and he couldn't be that much older than Sansa. Neasa had not been paying attention to the conversations around her so she was a little startled to find everyone disperse again. Her mother led the Queen and her children inside while Sansa and her younger siblings followed suit behind. All except for Arya. She was looking at the travelling company, stretching her neck and almost standing on tiptoes. "Where's the imp?" she called disappointed. Neasa shushed her quickly but she had already been heard.

The Queen stopped and turned around, clearly also looking for her little brother. She stepped aside then and grabbed the kingsguard closest to her by the arm. It was the man Neasa had seen before and now she instantly recognised him. The Queen's twin brother Jaime Lannister – rumoured to be the best swordsman in the seven kingdoms and killer of the Mad King. He was also rumoured to be the most handsome men in all of Westeros and Neasa could not deny his remarkable looks. He was tall and lean with a pretty face, blonde hair and dark green eyes. "Find that brother of ours!" Queen Cersei all but commanded and her brother simply nodded before turning away.

JAIME

The Starks were all lined up before them in the castle grounds when they arrived. He let his gaze sweep over them and his eyes rested on the oldest child. She had auburn hair that was flowing almost freely down her back and clear blue eyes – clearly a heritage from the Tully house. Her face was pretty with a straight nose and dark lashes surrounding those blue orbs but she didn't look that much a lady. She seemed tougher somehow and for whatever reason Jaime got the feeling her slim figure was awfully similar to the rider he had seen earlier.

Greetings were spoken and pleasantries exchanged until King Robert announced his desire to enter the crypts. Jaime could all but hear his sister scoff at this. She loathed Robert's undying love for Lyanna Stark who the king had wanted to wed before he took her as a bride. Their marriage was a loveless one held together by politics.

They all turned to get inside and Jaime joined them, glad to get out of this dreary cold. Even his thick cloak could not keep the freezing winds at bay and had begun to numb him. He hoped the inside of this bloody castle would be warmer at least though he doubted it. There seemed to be no spot this fucking wind couldn't reach.

"Where's the imp?" Jaime's head whipped around and focussed on one of the younger Starks. She looked more like a boy than a little girl. Her hair was dark brown and much shorter than her sister's, she was slim, almost lanky and had piercing grey eyes. And she clearly had a temperament too. Her older sister had quickly grabbed her by the shoulder but the words had already slipped out of that cheeky little mouth and they had been heard. Cersei turned on the spot and after curtly scanning the courtyard yanked on his arm.

"Find that brother of ours!" she commanded and Jaime knew better than to argue. The way her green eyes glowed he'd rather be back on his horse than faced with her wrath about Tyrion's disappearance. So he simply nodded and turned back to his horse that was just been led away by one of the stable boys. He took the reins again and swung himself back in the saddle before leaning down to the stable boy. "Where's the closest town and does it have a brothel?" he inquired lowly and the man nodded quickly. "Y..yes my lord." He stammered and pointed a shaking hand down the kingsroad. Jaime nodded. He had a fairly good idea where they'd lost his little brother. With a kick of his heels his mare cantered out of the castle and turned onto the kingsroad once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter so I am posting the 2nd one right away - hopefully it'll coax some reviewers out! ;) Just let me know if you like it and if I should continue the story - thank you! **

**2 – Meeting wolves **

TYRION

"And just in time for the feast – how marvellous!" Tyrion announced as his steed trotted inside Winterfell beside his brother. Jaime only snorted. After having his pleasures in the local whorehouse brought to an abrupt end by the arrival of his brother, Tyrions mood had not been the most cheerful. The prospect of wine and food however lightened it considerably. They stopped their horses in the middle of the grounds and dismounted. A stable hand appeared and grabbed the reins of both mounts, ready to lead them away and care for them. Tyrion was just about to leave and head inside the castle when something brought him to a stop. Clear blue eyes were looking at him from a dark grey face. Next to him Jaime had stopped as well, one hand already on the hilt of is sword.

"What in the seven hells is that?" Tyrion heard himself mutter and looked towards the stable boy for answers. The man shrugged. "A direwolf pup, my lord. Each of the Stark children has one. I believe this one belongs to the Lady Neasa." "A pup?" he echoed and watched the creature sniff at something on the ground. The pup as the stable hand had called it had already reached the size of a large hunting dog. The wolf had shaggy grey fur, almost the colour of steel and bright blue eyes that seemed far too intelligent for a wild animal. It was eyeing them closely now, tilting its head to the side and sitting on its hind legs. For some reason it made Tyrion uncomfortable, being watched by this beast.

"Blue!" Suddenly a young woman appeared at the entrance of the castle. She must be the oldest of the Stark children but her looks were clearly of a Tully. She had the same dark auburn hair as Lady Catelyn and blue eyes just like her wolf. Hearing her name the wolf instantly jumped up and followed the girl inside, seeming just as tame as any well-trained dog.

"If they get any bigger you could ride them into battle." Jaime commented from the side and Tyrion laughed humourlessly. His brother was right. He did not want to imagine what this one looked fully grown and knowing there were five more inside the castle, all being treated like pets awed and scared him both. "Well, I am glad we live in peace then." He replied drily to his brother's comment. They both made their way inside and Tyrion took his time looking around. Everything was grey and black and dull in this damn castle. No hint of colour anywhere only this dreadful cold that seemed to seep out of the walls itself. Well, thinking of Casterly Rock where every spare spot had been hung with golden and red tapestries - he didn't like that either. To each their own he guessed. But having the castle look like this he didn't wonder all the Northerners looked so glum. Well he hoped the feast would be more cheerful at least. And with enough wine to chase the cold from his bones and to make him enjoy the company of his sister a little more. Though he would need a lot of wine to achieve that latter bit.

JAIME

He took a small staircase just up to the rooms that had been assigned to him during his stay. They were comfortable and warm. A huge fire was burning in the fireplace and every bit of the stony floor had been covered in rugs and furs. Finally he might not freeze to death here. His search for Tyrion had cost him more time than he thought and there was barely time left for him to change out of his travel clothes for the feast. At least he was not on duty tonight. Jaime had barely gotten rid of his armour when the door behind him opened and his sister swept into the room. He didn't need to turn around to know it was her. Her floral perfume invaded his nostrils right away. When he looked over her shoulder she looked every bit as regal as always in a crimson gown rimmed with gold, a proud lion embroidered on the front. "What took you so long, finding that imbecile of our brother?" she demanded. "I had to spent half my day with these Northerners and their children. Dreadful little beasts, some just as wild as these awful wolves." She complained. Jaime sighed inwardly. "You sent me searching for Tyrion." He reminded her but a rough gesture interrupted him. "Search him, yes, not wait until he fucked every whore he could possibly find along the way." She spat. "Robert acts as if he has come home. He enjoys this dull castle and these rude Northerners with their filthy animals and trees to worship…" she seethed, seeming to go on without end. Jaime had no mind to stop her, he was barely listening. The day had been long and tiring and his dear sister was only adding to his exhaustion.

Thankfully a knock on the door interrupted Cersei's flow of words. "Enter!" He called and the door was opened to reveal one of the Stark guards. He bowed lowly when he saw Cersei standing in the room. "Your grace, my lord, Lord Stark will welcome you in the hall shortly." He bowed again and left, leaving Jaime alone with his twin sister again. "Don't keep me waiting again." She warned and rushed out of his room, finally giving him a little relief. Jaime tossed his muddy clothes into a corner and quickly changed into more fitting clothes for a feast tonight. Thinking of the lovely mood Cersei was in he might need some of the wine his little brother always seemed to keep so close at hand.

NEASA

Neasa sighed as she fastened the last straps to her dark green dress. The afternoon had been very tiring with the Kings arriving and her mother requesting her to sit beside her and the Queen to entertain their guests. Neasa had been right in her first assessment. Queen Cersei carried herself with an air as if all of Westeros belonged to her and looked down upon every other person she met. Well her father might be the richest man in all the seven kingdoms but that still didn't give her the right to turn up her nose at everything in Winterfell. Neasa was quite proud of her heritage and their beautiful castle. The Southerners had no right to frown upon them.

"Neasa! Mother says we are to come downstairs now." Arya appeared in her doorway, wearing a dress as well and sulking already because of it. Just behind her stood her wolf, Nymeria, looking as if Arya had attempted to bathe the poor creature. "Arya, you know what mother said. They are not to come into the hall tonight. The Queen and her children are afraid of them." Neasa reminded her little sister and Arya's face darkened even further. "But…" "No but, Blue is staying here as well. Nymeria can keep her company." Arya furrowed her brow but nodded and with a command of hers the wolf curled up next to her sister on the bed.

The girls left them and went down into the hall. Her mother and father were already there, as were Robb and Sansa. They each took their place on the table, a little farther down from the King and Queen. Neasa kept close to Arya and her little brothers who had entered the hall with Maester Luwin. With her mother preoccupied with the regal guests it would fall on Neasa to keep an eye on her younger siblings. Especially Arya had a knack for causing one trouble or another before the evening was over.

"Where's the imp now? He must be here!" Arya already asked again, stretching her neck to look towards the table in the front. "Keep quiet." Neasa warned her. "He is the Queen's brother and one of our guests, so don't call him the imp." She said sternly. "What should I call him then?" Arya inquired. "His name is Lord Tyrion. And if you meet him you will address him as politely as you would any other guest. And don't stare. It's rude." She told her. Arya opened her mouth to say something else, but in this very moment the king stood up, speaking a toast to her father as his host and how welcome they all had felt upon their arrival in Winterfell. Neasa applauded with the others, toasting to his health.

Neasa watched the feast unfold before her, never having witnessed one so grand herself. Soon people were dancing to the music played by bards and minstrels. Her father had allowed them one cup of wine at the feast and the sweet liquid felt strange to her tongue and made her feel lighter somehow. Neasa had let her guard down somewhat and was enjoying the music. Her attention had slipped from the King and her younger siblings to the other guests. The Queen's imp brother seemed to be the only one who thoroughly enjoyed himself, chatting away with one of the guards of Winterfell and having his wine cup refilled every so often. His laughter could even be heard down at her table. His brother was sitting next to him with an almost bored look to his face. Neasa thought that he probably thought all of this below himself as well. He hardly touched his wine and didn't seem to enjoy the dancing or the music either. He also didn't grab the serving girls though and Neasa felt she liked that. The king had already pulled two of them on his lap and was groping them, laughing heartily.

"Ewww!" A shriek interrupted her line of thoughts and Neasa turned her attention back to her siblings. Arya had taken to throwing peas at Sansa who shrieked and got up from her seat ready to chase her little sister through the hall. Neasa quickly stepped in between them, grabbing Arya by the arm and holding her tighter as she wanted to break free. When she looked up she saw her father give a jerk of the head and nodded. The feast was over for this little wolf at least. "Enough. You're leaving." Neasa mumbled and all but dragged her from the hall.

"Leave me alone!" Arya struggled and finally managed to tear herself from her sister's grasp. "You can't go back inside." Neasa told her, smiling lightly. In truth she didn't find Arya's jest that bad. Sansa had been acting like she was a princess as well, sticking her nose up to quite a few things she suddenly considered herself too old for. "I won't go to bed either!" Arya challenged and Neasa nodded. "Fine. We can stay outside for a bit. The air is so much fresher here." It seemed the wine had gotten to her head already as she felt a little dizzy standing in the cold night air. She grabbed the rails and watched Arya go down into the yard. Behind her two furry shadows also ran down the stairs. It seemed Blue and Nymeria had escaped Neasa's room as well and wanted to join their owners on a walk. They were soon running around the castle grounds, chasing each other playfully. Neasa simply stood back to watch while Arya grabbed one of the discarded wooden swords of her brothers and began to hit a dummy with it, venting her frustration on the puppet.

JAIME

The feast was just like any others in King's Landing – wine flowed freely, making the men and especially the king less inclined to keep their hands to themselves. Robert soon had two serving wenches on his lap and was groping them roughly. Jaime felt disgusted at the sight. His sister was sitting not far off and had to watch while her husband humiliated her in front of the North. Tyrion was obviously enjoying himself, having a steady supply of wine and trading rough jokes with the men of Winterfell. Jaime felt out of place here. There was no one he could possibly talk to as they all hated so much at looking at him. He was the kingslayer after all. He got up and left the hall, finding the idea of fresh air much more to his liking than being stuck in this stifling loud hall.

The silence almost seemed to ring in his ears after all the noise from inside. Jaime noticed how it had gotten colder still but he almost welcomed the fresh air now. It helped him to clear his head and made him feel free in a way. As everyone seemed to be at the feast he was all alone outside and slowly strolled down the stairs into the courtyard. Suddenly the noise of something like wood on wood caught his attention and he found himself walking towards the training grounds. The full moon was shining and bathed everything in a silvery light that helped him to see what was going on. A little girl, probably not older than ten, was hitting away at a straw dummy with a wooden sword. It was one of the Stark children. The one that looked more like a little boy who had so roughly inquired about his brother earlier. Close by he saw the figures of two wolves lying on the ground. He recognised one of them. It was the steel grey bitch he had seen in the yard and who looked so awfully like the big dog the rider had kept by her side this afternoon prior to his arrival in Winterfell.

"Be glad this one can't fight back little one!" he called to the girl and grinned. There was another proof why girls shouldn't get their hands on swords. The girl seemed much more likely to hurt herself than any opponent, even one made of straw. Upon hearing his words she turned around. "I am not little. And I can fight!" she protested, glaring at him. Jaime smirked. "Do you? Tell me, what does a little girl like you know about sword fighting?" he asked casually. "Stick 'em with the pointy end!" she replied and Jaime couldn't help but laugh. Well, at least she was right with that one. "You're the kingslayer." She then stated, eyeing him up and down with a brave look. Jaime felt himself tense. He hated that name and hearing it coming from a girl of just ten years made the insult so much more real. "Careful now…" he warned, stepping a little closer. The girl raised her wooden sword. "What? Or you'll fight me?" she challenged and Jaime found his patience stretch thin with this one. Maybe he should indeed fight her, just to teach her a lesson. "I don't hit little girls." he replied arrogantly and turned away. It was better not to anger his host but then something hit him on the thigh. As he turned back he saw the girl grinning at him with mocking eyes. "Do that again and I'll…" he threatened again, but to no avail. "You're the best swordsman in all of Westeros they say." She told him. "Is it true? Can you really fight better than all the others?" Jaime sighed. The little one seemed to have changed her tactics now trying to flatter him. "Better than you at least." "Show me!" she demanded and caused him to roll his eyes. "And hurt Ned Stark's daughter? I am no fool." "You're a coward." She shot back and teased him with her wooden sword again. Jaime felt his anger rise. He didn't take well to be called a coward or anything like that and this girl was surely close to learning her lesson. "I am no coward." He replied in a barely controlled whisper. "Fight me then." The girl challenged again. "Don't you have a Septa that's keeping an eye on you? Or to be in bed at this hour?" "I have no Septa, I don't like them. And they all say I am too wild for them." Jaime raised his eyebrows mockingly. "Really? I wonder where they get that idea from…"

"Fight me!" the little wolf challenged him again and Jaime felt himself shrug. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt teaching this wild one a lesson. At least it wouldn't hurt him. He strolled past her, grabbed another one of the wooden swords and turned back to his skinny opponent. "Come on then. Fight me." He mocked and instantly the girl attacked. She blindly came at him, her sword outstretched and all he needed to do was sidestep her in order to avoid the attack. Having not anticipated this the girl nearly fell over which caused Jaime to laugh. Well, maybe his evening would improve after all. "Stop it!" the girl shouted and attacked again. Again Jaime sidestepped her. If she kept this up she would be exhausted within minutes.

"Fight!" she shouted again, breathing hard though Jaime couldn't tell if from exhaustion or fury. He laughed again. "Fine then. I'll use my left hand to keep it fair. I am the best swordsman in all of Westeros after all." He changed hands and almost let the sword fall from his grasp. It felt so unfamiliar holding it with his left. He gripped the handle a little tighter and advanced slowly, making the girl back down. Having her back almost to the wall he grinned down at her. "Do you yield, little wolf?" he asked smugly.

NEASA

Neasa had been standing on the top of the stairs when she saw the kingslayer enter the training grounds. At first she didn't think any of it but as soon as she heard Arya talk to him her eyes had gone wide and she grabbed her skirts to join them in the yard. Her sister really was too wild for her own good. She stopped again though as he strolled towards the back of the training grounds and picked up a wooden sword for himself. What now? He surely hadn't given in to her sister's challenge or had he? Fascinated and a little worried Neasa watched as her younger sibling attacked the skilled swordsman again and again until she was out of breath. He had avoided every single one of her attacks by merely stepping out of the way and Arya was seething. Neasa found herself unable to move. This was dangerous and they would surely get into trouble for it, but still she couldn't bring herself to announce her presence.

"Fight!" Arya challenged the kingslayer without so much as a second thought who she barked her command at and Neasa saw him take the sword in his left hand. Though it was easy to see how unskilled he was he still backed Arya into a corner rather quickly, bringing her back against the wall. Not liking to be on the losing side Arya unleashed a series of wild stabs and hits into his direction which he wasn't prepared for. Suddenly the clatter of wood on stone could be heard and the sword fell from his grasp while he pulled his hand closer to his chest.

ARYA

Arya watched the man in front of her come closer with every step. He was so arrogant and smug just like her brothers. Saying girls couldn't fight and all that. She didn't care he was the kingslayer or the Queen's brother. She wanted him to know she could fight to. She took a step back to avoid his hit and then another. Soon her back came into contact with the castle wall and he stopped, his sword raised. "Do you yield?" he asked and grinned as if he knew he would be proven right all along. Arya saw red. She raised her sword again and wildly hit it against his. He hadn't been holding on properly and the wooden weapon slid from his hands unto the cobblestones while he raised his hand and pulled it to his chest.

JAIME

"Argh!" he cursed under his breath as the wooden sword painfully connected with his left hand and made him lose his own weapon in the process. He hadn't been prepared for this wild one to still fight him back. Stunned he realised he just lost to a ten year old girl who looked much too smug for his liking, standing there grinning, sword still in hand. "Do _you_ yield?" she all but snarled and Jaime straightened up some more. He slowly stalked towards her, holding her gaze and watching her every movement. Her body was taut, ready to spring and he could see the fear shine in those grey eyes but she kept looking into his eyes with defiance and he couldn't deny that this impressed him somewhat. He took another step and raised his hand – and froze. Cold metal was suddenly pressed against his throat and he could feel another body right behind him, holding the dagger and breathing down the side of his neck. "You leave her. Do not harm my sister or I'll cut your throat, kingslayer." A young voice whispered and Jaime wanted so much to turn his head at the woman speaking. He didn't dare too though, the dagger was still pressing against the tender skin of his throat. He swallowed and then forced his body to relax as much as possible. "I know that you think I have only shit for honour, but believe me, I would never harm a child, especially not a little girl for that matter." He spoke with much more arrogance than he felt at this moment but a second later the dagger disappeared and Jaime could turn around to look into a pair of bright blue eyes. The oldest Stark daughter. He had been right to think she wasn't as soft as her looks.

Before he could say anything though an all too familiar laugh carried its way down into the yard. His brother. Jaime raised his head and saw Tyrion walking down the parapet like he had witnessed all of their little banter. His eyes were shining with mirth and he was grinning widely at the scene before him.

"Bravo little one. The best swordsman in Westeros defeated. I applaud you, my ladies." Tyrion walked right up to the small Stark girl patting Jaime on the back in the process and breaking his eye contact with the older Stark daughter. Tyrion then bowed low before the girl, still laughing. "Now, do you need a Maester to see to your wounds, Ser Jaime?" he asked mockingly and looked back at him. Jaime clenched his jaw. Tyrion was the only one who could make fun of him and get away with it but even he was trying his luck here. A look to his hand confirmed that the skin had split, revealing a bloody cut. It was nothing really, the blow to his ego was much worse. "I am fine." He said between gritted teeth and looked at the girls once more. They were standing side by side now, their different looks starkly contrasting. While the older one looked calm and collected once more but clearly didn't trust him at all, the younger one practically beamed at him. "You were lucky. Once." He told her and turned to leave but then turned back. "What's your name little wolf?" "Arya!" came the quick reply and Jaime let his eyes rest on her sister. "Neasa." She said finally and he nodded once.

JAIME

As he climbed the stairs a few moments later he was already cursing himself for being that thoughtless. What had gotten into him to fight these children? _Lannisters don't act like fools_. He could practically hear the voice of his father in his mind. Oh what a fool he had made of himself. And why had he asked her name? Or why did he feel something very close to admiration to these girls' reckless bravery?

He should be infuriated with Arya for insulting him like that and looking down upon him. A child who didn't know anything about vows and oaths and war and mad kings… And Neasa, well she was another matter entirely. Not many people could claim to have held a dagger to his throat. She was brave and she clearly knew how to handle the weapon, he could feel her grip. And though she must have known that he wouldn't really harm her sister, he was her father's guest after all, she had stepped up without a second thought to protect her younger sibling. Threatening to harm him no matter the consequences.

NEASA

Neasa had laughed at Arya's wilfulness and her lack of being intimidated by an elaborated swordsman. She had laughed at the fierceness of her little sister and the sudden shock on the kingslayer's face when she managed to disarm him. It had been sheer luck and foolish bravery but still. As she had seen Arya being faced with him all alone she had to step in though. He had been angry and humiliated and she didn't count on him not to act on these feelings and harm her sister in any way. So she slipped behind him, pulled the dagger she always carried around from underneath her clothes and held it to his throat. No one threatened her family and got away with it. Thankfully for all of them maybe the kingslayer's little brother showed up and visibly broke the tension. She had let go of him quickly and took a spot next to Arya who apparently couldn't decide between grinning proudly or glaring at the man before her.

"Come on, let's get you off to bed. And don't tell anyone about this, not even Jon." Neasa said after the kingslayer had left the courtyard. Arya pouted. "But no one will know I beat the kingslayer then!" she argued and Neasa noticed the imp laughing. "He will know and that is the most important part, little wolf." He laughed and bowed deeply before her and Arya. "My ladies, I bid you good night. I should look after my brother, I fear his pride was gravely wounded…" he chuckled and left them alone. Neasa turned back to Arya. "If father or mother find out you have been sparring and injured one of our guests, the Queen's brother, I don't know what they will do. So for your own sake don't tell anyone. Not Robb, not Jon and no one else." She warned again. "Alright." Arya finally conceded.


	3. Chapter 3

**And here we go again - just got back from my amazing holiday! I am filled up with lots of inspiration and hope I get the time to write the next couple of days. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I would be very happy to know your thoughts on this one! Have fun! **

**3 – Winter is coming **

JAIME

It had taken Jaime some time to fall asleep the previous night. The wind kept howling and rattling around the castle walls and no matter how many logs he threw into the fire there was a coldness that crept into his bones he couldn't seem to get rid of. His sleep had been fitful and restless then, plagued by dreams of wolves and the clatter of swords.

As soon as he was up he went into the great hall to break his fast. The room still held some of the scents from the feast – cold ash, wine and some remnants of the food that had been served. And the booming laugh that told him the king was already awake as well. When Jaime entered he was greeted with the sight of Robert and Ned Stark sitting next to each other and chatting amiably while they ate. Two other kingsguard members – Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Meryn Trant – where there as well and three boys that must belong to the Stark household. They all seemed to be about the same age – maybe sixteen or seventeen. The one sitting next to Ned Stark must be his oldest son. His hair was short and curly with a dark reddish tint, much like his mothers. Or his sisters as the image of Lady Neasa popped into Jaime's mind. A grey wolf was lying behind the boy gnawing a bone and occasionally snarling at another wolf pup with fur white as snow and piercing red eyes. After taking his seat just a little down the table from them Jaime also recognised the other two: one was Ned Stark's bastard son and the other one was Theon Greyjoy, a ward of Stark's. A serving maid brought him bread, ale and bacon and Jaime grabbed some with his left hand. Behind him he could hear the sound of light footsteps scuttling towards the table as well. He had barely taken a bite when the king focussed on him. "Kingslayer, what happened to your hand?" The steps halted suddenly and Jaime suppressed a sudden urge to smirk. "An accident in the stables your grace." He lied smoothly and looked towards the young girl who slipped into a seat not far away from her father. Her eyes caught Jaime's for a second, flickered down to his hand and then back to the plate in front of her. "You should stay here then." The king said and Jaime looked up, confused. "For the hunt." Robert clarified. "I have no use of a knight with only one good hand. Besides, I don't like the idea of you hunting with me anyway – we wouldn't want you to get confused what to slay!" he laughed boomingly at his own joke and Jaime pushed his plate away. His appetite had all but vanished, replaced by a burning rage deep down inside him. He stood abruptly and left the hall, his jaw tightly clenched and his stare set straight ahead. When he rounded a corner that led towards the yard he bumped into a smaller figure but was much too preoccupied to do even mutter an apology.

Jaime didn't think where he was going. He just knew that he couldn't stand to be near Robert for the rest of the day and he needed some way or another to get rid of the rage inside him. When he reached the stables he saw Cersei coming his way, her golden hair unmistakable amongst the northern grey everywhere. Not caring if anyone saw him he roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her into the nearest stall, shoving her up against the wall and attacking her lips roughly with his own. His ministrations lasted barely a few moments before she slapped him hard.

"Are you out of your mind?" she hissed and roughly pushed him away. "Anyone could see us! Stop being that stupid!" she snarled and raised her hand, ready to slap him again if he came any closer. Jaime stared at her, her eyes were burning with anger but for the moment he didn't care. He stepped closer again, cornering her and roughly grabbing her wrists to keep her from slapping him again. "Let go of me this instant or I'll…" "What? What will you do, Cersei? Scream?" he asked while his lips hovered dangerously close above her own. He kissed her again, hard and deep, barely caring that she struggled against his grip. He could feel her resistance weakening, her body becoming softer and reacting to his kisses. So he let go of her hands. And was slapped again.

"You bloody fool, don't ever do that again." Cersei seethed and stared him down as she straightened her dress. She shoved past him, leaving Jaime leaning against the stable wall. His blood still boiled from anger and also lust Cersei had ignited within him and his cheek throbbed. Even his hands were shaking as he watched her retreat quickly inside the castle. _Fool._ He was a fool in her eyes. In his father's eyes. In everyone's eyes really. The bloody fool with shit for honour who killed his king, who forsake his vow. Who let himself be disarmed by a little girl. He needed to get away or he would end up killing the next person that crossed him – and that surely wouldn't help the relations with the king or the Starks. Not that he cared.

ARYA

As she entered the great hall she could see the king and his men sitting at the table already. Her father and her brothers were there too, and Theon. And the kingslayer. She halted when the king asked about the dressing around his hand and anxiously held her breath. _Oh please, please lie._ She prayed, thinking of what would happen if her mother and father found out she had been sword fighting. "An accident in the stables you Grace." He said and Arya let out the breath she had been holding, happily skipping towards the table and sliding into her seat. Her gaze flickered towards his hand and for a short moment their eyes met. Arya smiled the tiniest smile and quickly looked back down onto the plate in front of her. He hadn't said anything! She wouldn't get in trouble!

A few moments later Neasa joined her, her brow furrowed and looking slightly angry. "What's wrong?" Arya asked but her older sister only shook her head. Arya pouted and was about to ask her again, when another figure took their seat just across from them. Lord Tyrion. "Where are my dear brother and sister, I wonder?" he asked aloud and Arya answered. "The king made a joke. Not a good one." She explained and quickly shot a look at her father and the king who were about to leave the hall. Thankfully they hadn't heard but Lord Tyrion looked worried. Arya knew that look, it was usually the one Neasa gave her when she worried Arya got herself in trouble again.

CERSEI

Jaime was an idiotic fool. How could he dare to touch her like this when someone could see them any time? It shouldn't bother him what her drunk of a husband did or said – things like that didn't concern themselves. But her brother had always had a knack for valuing the opinion of others too highly – even when they were little he had always strived to be seen as honourable and loved by everyone. It was pathetic really. Pathetic and utterly reckless. Anyone could have seen them – if they told her fool of a husband he would forsake this dreadful hunt to skewer them both.

"Is everything alright, your Grace?" Catelyn Stark had crossed her path and politely smiled at her. Cersei gave her one of her fake smiles in return, hardly bothering to make it believable. She hated this place. The cold, the glumness, the Starks with their behaviour as if they were better than everyone else. And she hated what Robert saw in this place. Lyanna Stark. A ghost, a woman he had not even known properly but who had destroyed her life even before she married the king. Because he couldn't let go of her. Because he visited the crypts and mumbled her name when he drunkenly fucked her and because he wanted to stay here much longer than she would have liked.

She longed to be back in King's Landing. Far away from these northerners and their honour and a dead woman haunting her. She longed for the power she held in the Red Keep with her birds whispering about everything that went on. The leverage it provided over Robert. Here she felt helpless and lost, like a bird fallen from its nest. And if there was one feeling in the world she hated most of all it was to be powerless or inferior.

NEASA

After breaking her fast Neasa had left her little sister conversing with Lord Tyrion who seemed an amiable enough man, despite being a Lannister. He spoke politely and seemed to be honestly fascinated by the North and especially their direwolves. Arya answered him readily enough and seeing how one of her father's guards was always around she would be safe – or as safe as Arya ever was. Neasa longed to get out of the castle for a while, she felt as if the walls were closing in on her with the king and all his guards and household members crowding up the place. Also, her head was swirling with all the things she had learnt this morning when she had joined her father in the godswood just after the break of dawn.

_"__Neasa, come here." He invited her, sitting under the huge weirwood and staring into the pool by its feet. "Is it true? Will you be the new Hand of the king?" she asked. The rumours were already spreading throughout the whole of Winterfell and Neasa needed to know for sure, even if she dreaded the answer. Her father sighed. "Robert has asked me to, yes." He confided and suddenly looked a lot older than he actually was. "And you don't say no to a king." She mumbled, earning a strange look from her father. "He is one of my oldest friends as well. Not only my king. And he needs someone he can trust after Jon Arryn died." Neasa nodded slowly. She knew her father had already decided in his heart, even though he wasn't ready to admit it yet. But he would never deny his king this request, and certainly not his oldest friend. "What about Sansa?" she heard herself ask. Her father becoming Hand was not the only rumour that was spreading and the one she was asking about had already reached the ears of her younger sister who seemed to buzz with excitement at the prospect. "Yes, she will be engaged to Joffrey. There will still pass some years before she is going to marry him though. They are both still young. Your mother and I started off rougher than that and it turned out better than any of us would dare to hope." Neasa nodded again, watching one of the red leaves fall from the weirwood and land into the clear pool, creating ripples on the clear surface. "Arya will come as well. I cannot leave her here and King's Landing might prove beneficial to her education. If she were to stay with her brothers though…" He didn't need to finish that thought as Neasa already knew. Arya was wild as a wolf. Leaving her in Winterfell would mean leaving her to run wild with her brothers and being unable to tame her again. As much as it pained Neasa she knew her favourite sister had to grow up and be a lady sooner rather than later. And being in King's Landing would surely help with that. She couldn't sneak away to play with swords or a bow and arrows then. "I was hoping you would accompany them." Neasa heard her father say and for a moment she faltered. Yes, of course. She could not leave him alone, especially not if he were to take Arya and Sansa with him. These two were like day and night – different to the core and constantly fighting about it. Her father would go mad within the fortnight. So it wasn't really a question, her fate had also been decided. _

Neasa gently stroked the copper coat of her steed and smiled lightly as he muzzled her hands, looking for some treat she might have hidden in the folds of her coat. Neasa only smiled and playfully pushed the horse's muzzle away and leaving the stall to get her saddle. A ride was what she needed.

JAIME

His heart was hammering in tune with the galloping hooves of his mare as she raced across the frozen grounds. The horse was already sweating hard, her white coat covered with a thin layer of sweat but still he pushed on. He needed to. His mind calmed the faster he let his mount run and the further away from Winterfell he got. He held the reins with one hand, the other grabbing his sword as he hacked at bushes standing in his way, the plants being a poor substitute for where he really wanted to drive his sword into.

Suddenly a grey shadow was overtaking him, followed by a larger copper one. Jaime glanced to his side and saw another rider just next to him. There was no mistaking that red Tully hair and the grey wolf racing ahead. He let his horse take a wide bent and slowed down just a little to see the rider do the same.

"You're going to break your neck galloping over unknown fields at that speed." She called to him and Jaime scoffed. "And what do you care about my neck, Lady Neasa?" he challenged, the incident of when her dagger had pressed against the delicate skin of his throat still fresh in his mind. "Oh nothing!" she called back. "In fact I couldn't care less, but I would love it if you didn't break it so close to my home. I imagine it would be a big fuss, you dying here. And I really couldn't wish that upon my family." Her eyes twinkled with mischief and it was clear she was mocking him. He looked away at that. "Well, at least the king would be delighted…" he muttered too low for her to hear.

CERSEI

"I demand that we leave for King's Landing as soon as Ned Stark has accepted this bloody offer of yours! You had to make it an offer, hadn't you? Not a command!" She screamed, her fingers clenching and unclenching in her anger. Robert was almost shaking in his wrath but she did not care. She wouldn't let herself be thwarted by a dead woman any longer. She needed to get away from this dreadful place that felt like a tomb with its black walls and dark halls.

"Kepp it down, woman!" Robert bellowed, taking a threatening step towards her. "We will stay another seven nights before we right for King's Landing. Ned has asked to take some time to prepare before he leaves." "I am your wife and I say we leave tomorrow." She hissed, slamming her hand down on the small table in front of her. "Enough!" Robert stepped towards her with a fluidity she didn't know he still possessed and roughly gripped her wrists. "I will not let my wife tell me what to do. Especially not you. Shut your bloody mouth or I will make sure you do." Cersei was fuming with rage, her body shaking with a barely controlled wrath and her eyes sparkling like wildfire. "Let go of me!" she hissed, roughly jerking her hands free and storming from the room.

She found Jaime walking outside in the courtyard and roughly pulled him with her. She didn't care any longer what any bystanders thought. He was her twin brother, her other half and she had every right to take a walk with him. Jaime who could clearly feel her fury tried to speak to her but that was not what she had in mind. They rounded half the castle, him always a bit behind her. It wasn't long until they reached and even more godforsaken place. A tower that was nearly broken and stood like a jagged tooth. Cersei pulled her brother inside, shoving him against the wall as soon as they were well hidden from any eyes that might come across them. Her lips crashed into his, her hands grabbing his hair and pulling at it. He didn't resist, he never had. They were two halves and always knew what the other needed. He completed her in a way no one else ever could. She closed her eyes as Jaime roughly pulled her against him, his tongue thrust into her mouth and his teeth carelessly grazing her lips, almost drawing blood. She could feel her anger dissipating, being replaced by a much more ferocious beast as she pulled at his clothes and moulded her body against his. "Come." She gasped and pulled away from him just enough so she could rush up the stairs leading further into the tower. Jaime followed, his gaze already clouded with lust and wanton.

JAIME

He knew the mood Cersei was in and the look he gave her. He always knew. It was like they understood each other without words, the other one instinctively knowing what was going through the mind of their twin. So when she grabbed him he knew better than to ask. It was obvious Robert had infuriated her yet again but she wasn't looking for comfort. No, Cersei never was. She wasn't weak. She was a lioness and right now she only wanted to attack and devour. The broken tower seemed to be the ideal spot. No one would find them there. It had not been used for ages as the dust on the staircase and in the deserted guard room right at the top told him. There was no one around to see or hear anything that went on.

He shoved her to the ground then, hiking up her dress and making quick work of her undergarments while she kissed and clawed at his skin, tearing at his hair only adding to the lust that was building up inside. He didn't waste any time. He was behind and inside her within minutes, thrusting fast and hard against her, his own desire matching hers. His hands were grabbing her breasts from behind while his lips attacked her neck, he being barely able to restrain himself from leaving marks and claiming her as his own. Their breaths were coming in short ragged breaths.

Suddenly Cersei gasped. It was a shocked frightful intake of breath, nothing close to the sounds that had been coming out of her mouths just moments before. He looked up and felt his blood run cold. A little boy with grey eyes was watching them from the window. Jaime couldn't think of any logical reason how he had gotten up there, but there he was, clinging to the wall, his eyes wide in shock, his mouth agape. "He saw us. He saw us." Cersei repeated in a frenzy and Jaime quickly got to his feet, grabbing the boy by his collar. Big round frightened eyes landed on him and he could feel the small body beginning to shake in fear. It was a thirty foot drop he guessed, a height that made grown men afraid.

"Do something. He saw us." Cersei urged and he focussed back on the boy who was now shaking like a leaf. "How old are you, boy?" he asked calmly trying to decide what he could do to get out of this misery. The child was one of Stark's children. It wouldn't be easy. "T..Ten." the boy said. Jaime nodded and felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Just as old as Myrcella. His grip loosened slightly and he turned to look at Cersei who had appeared beside him. Her hand on the shoulder of the boy, holding him in place. Her face was sweet and looked almost melancholic as she stroked his dark brown hair. "Ten. And quite the climber, aren't you…" she said affectionately while her eyes stared hatefully at Jaime. He could feel his blood get even colder by the look she was giving him, her mouth forming the words 'he saw us' even though she did not utter them aloud.

"The things I do for love." He mumbled, stepped back and watched in horror as his sister shoved the child out the window. He waited for a sound that came far too late, the thud of a small body hitting the ground below. Instead he heard the piercing howl of a wolf calling out into the air and cutting through him like knives.


	4. Chapter 4

**4 – the lone wolf **

NEASA

She was shaking, trembling. Her whole body felt as if it didn't belong to her anymore. She could not think straight, not focus. Even breathing felt too much. It was as if her mind was detached from her body – two separate beings. Like she was watching herself sitting there, next to her mother in Bran's room, staring at the lifeless form of her little brother, buried under heavy furs and blankets. His body looked so frail, so delicate.

He never fell. It was what she repeated over and over in her head, the only words she seemed to be able to phrase at the moment. Bran, her little brother who climbed like a squirrel had never once fallen before. Until today. Neasa shivered as she remembered his wolf, Summer, howling the moment Bran must have hit the ground. It was a piercing, wailing sound that went right through your soul. Even though she had been far away from the broken tower at that moment she had known that something terrible had happened to one of her family members.

It had been her father who carried Bran to his chamber while she ran to fetch Maester Luwin. Neasa couldn't remember ever feeling so helpless or so scared in all her life. Her mother was beyond herself with grief and needed to be restraint by her father because she wouldn't let the Maester take a look at Bran. Now she was sitting next to his bed, murmuring prayers and staring off into space. Neasa had not yet allowed herself to cry, comforting her siblings and trying to help her mother through that. Sansa was crying like was expected while Arya had gone wild, grabbing a training sword and hacking at everything that stood in her way. Neasa had hardly been able to rein her in before she hurt herself. After that Arya had also collapsed crying until she finally fell asleep from exhaustion. That was when Neasa went to find her mother again and look at Bran. He looked like he was sleeping but Neasa knew that this sleep was not far off from the everlasting sleep of the dead. Maester Luwin had said that he would survive if he lived through the night but time seemed to pass awfully slowly. Neasa found herself holding her breath for every single one Bran took. It felt as if she could will him to continue breathing by denying herself the act.

"Go and get some rest, Neasa." She hadn't heard her father enter and flinched at his soft voice. "I…" "You need to rest. Only the gods can help him now." Neasa nodded numbly and got up to leave her parents to their grief. But she couldn't go to her room where the walls seemed to draw closer the longer she stayed and Summer's wail followed her into her dreams. She needed room to breathe and cold air to clear her mind.

There was a small alcove not far from where Bran fell where Neasa finally allowed herself to let go of the mask she had so dearly held onto – there was no one around who might see her tears or hear her sobs so she let go of the strength she had to show for the sake of her younger siblings and her parents. And her whole world shattered. The sobs racking her body left her trembling and leaning against the cold stone, making her feel like she couldn't breathe properly, like no air was getting into her lungs no matter how hard she tried. It was a pain so much worse than anything she had felt before, because it came from somewhere deep within her, someplace she could not pinpoint and it hurt worse than any wound ever could.

JAIME

He had been wandering around aimlessly after the fall of the boy his only aim being not to run into anyone, be it servants, Starks or members of the king's company. Cersei had been furious with him for not tossing the boy out himself, for being so careless in the first place and for feeling something she seemed to have no ounce of in herself – regret. And this sent his thoughts into chaos. While one part of him knew that there had been no other way and tried to convince himself that he it had been necessary to protect others he loved, not only Cersei there was this other part of him that felt disgusted by it. He didn't push the boy, but he didn't stop Cersei either. And in doing so Jaime had broken yet another vow. Protect the innocent – the one vow he always told himself he would never break, no matter how low he sunk. He would never harm a child. And yet he had almost killed one. He practically killed a ten year old boy. The thought made bile rise in his throat. Jaime knew the Maester had said the child may live if he survived the night but chances were slim at best. And Cersei's paranoia was something that made him almost sick to the stomach again. She would not let the boy live.

Jaime rounded another corner and suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He was no longer alone. There, hidden in a small alcove he could make out the shape of the young woman who held a dagger to his throat the night prior. Though he barely recognised her now. She looked… broken. Her body was slumped against the wall, her head hung low, all the posture and grace gone. The defiance he had seen when she had defended her little sister vanished. Jaime wanted to turn back, to escape his own guilty conscience but also to give her the privacy she clearly sought. He felt like an intruder. But he found himself unable to. Her despair touches something deep inside him that he thought long dead. Her sobs are too raw, it is almost unbearable to her the pain in her voice, see her slim body shake as if it might crumble under the weight any given moment. And knowing he is to blame for it. So he tentatively steps closer until he is almost behind her.

"I am sorry." He offers weakly, despite feeling her pain like an open wound he is at a loss what the right thing to say might be. He doesn't know how to show those kinds of feelings – weakness. He can never be weak or allow anyone to see what goes on inside, behind the armour he has built up to protect himself.

NEASA

And suddenly she was no longer alone. Neasa heard the mumbled words behind her and with a start realised that it wasn't one of the servants or guards of her father. No one from Winterfell even. It was the kingslayer. And he was sorry – what kind of comfort was this?! Her brother might die, her little brother who had dreamed of becoming a knight. Sorry. A feeling so feeble that it didn't even begin to cover the pain she felt. "Where you sorry when you killed the king?! Is that it?! Just sorry?!" she screamed at him and whirled around, her eyes shining with unshed tears, her face red from crying. And then she looked into his eyes and saw the same pain she felt reflected somewhere in the deep green pits, like small specks of light. Pain and something else, something far deeper that she couldn't touch. He simply stared at her, his face frozen, his body slack as if she had physically hurt him. And she was sorry. "I am sorry." She mumbled, averted her gaze and hugged her arms around her body to keep herself from sobbing helplessly again. And from falling apart, because that was how it felt, like the pain was tearing her apart from the inside.

JAIME

Her question shocked him and for a moment anger shot up like a flame. And terror. Suddenly Jaime felt his heart clench with fear. Did she know something? Had she seen or heard anything? But no, it couldn't be. There was no one around. But then he saw her eyes and realised, that she indeed didn't know anything and everything vanished, leaving him almost numb. Blue like a clear winter's sky but filled with a pain so deep it almost choked him. "I am sorry." He repeated and stepped closer, reaching out to touch her gently on the shoulder because it just felt like he should do something, because he wanted to take some of the pain away. Because he was the one who deserved to suffer. Because he was to blame. "I know this must feel worse than anything…" he offered simply, trying to find the right words and failing greatly it seemed. "How can you know anything about what I feel?" she asked lowly but didn't flinch from his touch any longer. "Because I have a little brother too." Jaime heard himself say. His brother was a downright pain in the arse most of the time, too clever for his own good, constantly defying their sister or father, challenging him and looking at him in a way that made Jaime squirm but he loved him deeply. Tyrion was his family and he knew that if something happened to him, he wouldn't hesitate to burn the whole of Westeros down simply to numb the pain he would feel. The same pain he now saw reflected in a pair of ice blue eyes. A pain he had caused, a pain he deserved.

He couldn't recall exactly how it happened or why but he suddenly found himself cradling the young woman against his chest, pulling her to him. At first she tensed, like a deer ready to fly, not trusting him, trying to be strong but after a moment she all but collapsed and broke down in his arms. For a moment he feared she had fainted as she clung to him so tightly he had to wrap both arms around her just to make sure she didn't fall. Her body was shaking from sobs and he could feel her ragged breaths and her tears soaking through his tunic but strangely enough he couldn't care less. It felt like he got what he deserved. He had caused this so he must now help her bear it or lessen it or do whatever he can before she fell apart. Her despair was so deep that he could feel it cutting him like knives and leaving him to bleed. "I am so sorry." He whispered yet again, mumbling it so low she couldn't hear him over her crying but offering whatever comfort he could. He, worst of all.

He doesn't know how long they have been standing there like this, when Neasa straightens up and frees herself from him like she has been burned. Her eyes are clearer now and she seems to really see him for the first time, recognise who he is. And in that instant the northern girl is back. The little Stark from Winterfell. "I thank you for your kind words." She says and though her voice breaks at the end she manages to look him in the eyes most of the time. Something that is almost unbearable for him and he is glad when she finally drops her gaze. "I need to look after my siblings. Good day, Ser." And with that she is gone and he feels the pain and guilt creep up again, like they have been lingering in the shadows, just waiting for the moment when he is alone again. Alone and without any way to relief his conscience somehow. To atone for what he did by at least comforting one of the people he hurt.

TYRION

_"__The master says the boy may live." Tyrion said and watched the reaction on his brother's face. For a moment Jaime seemed to hold his breath before he simply nodded, trying to keep his face a stoic mask but Tyrion had seen the small flicker in his eyes. And it told him two things: first of all he had been right about the cause of the boys' fall and second his sister had not managed to make a ruthless monster out of his brother yet. Jaime looked relieved and guilty. At least to knowing eyes. _

_"__Tell me, what have your and our dear sister done this time?" He asked and Jaime stiffened before his jaw set in a tight line. "Ah, let me guess… the boy saw something?" Jaime did not react but somehow the muscles of his jaw tightened further. "So he saw something." This time it was not a question but a statement. "Something he was not supposed to see and to make him shut up, you..." Tyrion made a vague gesture with his hand. Jaime seemed almost pained by his illustrations of the events but Tyrion had no intention of stopping until his brother made him. "Stop it." Jaime's voice was hoarse but resolute. "I am glad to see you still have some kind of conscience." Tyrion mumbled in jest but his true feelings were remarkably similar. "I did nothing." Jaime said. "Excuse me?" "I did nothing. I didn't stop… it." Jaime admitted and Tyrion nodded. This told him so much more about what had happened and strangely he was flooded with relief. _

"I am sorry my wife is unable to attend dinner tonight." Ned Stark sat down at the head of the table, next to his children who were already seated. Tyrion noticed that they all looked pale and moved around like ghosts. Especially the girls. Only the eldest daughter, Neasa, managed to keep a brave face. He heard Cersei made some sickly sweet comment about the incident, offering her prayers and condolences. Tyrion wanted to gag at the act. After what Jaime had told him earlier he knew now what had caused Brandon Stark to 'fall' from the broken tower. And seemingly there was no end to his sister's malice. But then again, he had always known that hadn't he?

JAIME

The dinner was a quiet affair with hardly any talk going on. Even Robert was sipping his wine without the usual grabbing at the serving girls and pulling them on his lap. The incident with the Stark boy lingered over them like a sword hanging over their heads and too much noise might set it off to swing down at them. At least that was how he felt. Tyrion knew. His little brother had a way of reading people that made Jaime glad they were family. If anyone else was this perceptive his life would be much more difficult. His gaze flickered to Neasa who was trying to hide her pain behind a mask though it was badly cracked. She had her littlest brother on her lap and was rocking him back and forth, trying to calm the boy down. In the dim light with her hair down and the child in her arms she looked the spitting image of her mother. A kick to his shin startled him out of his thoughts and when he looked up Tyrion was giving him a warning look, his eyebrows raised. Jaime averted his gaze and let it travel through the great hall instead. Close to the firelight all six of the wolf pups were lying in a heap, huddled close together as if they were comforting each other as well. When he looked at them one of the wolves, the bitch with the clear blue eyes curled her lips and snarled lowly as if she could feel the guilt coming off him.

After dinner Jaime had quickly retired to his chamber but no one seemed to mind him. The king had gone off to offer comfort to his friend Stark, the guards had all gone to stay among themselves. Winterfell tonight seemed to be a dead place already. Dark, glum and dead. No one could be seen walking in the moonlight, no words were spoken, no hushed voices. A wolf howled somewhere and Jaime felt goose bumps creeping over his skin.

"Why did you keep looking at the red-head?" Suddenly Cersei was behind him, her voice sounding much too loud in the deadly quiet of the night. "The Stark girl?" he asked back. Cersei curled her lips. "More a trout than a wolf if you ask me. She looks like a down-right Tully." Jaime shrugged. He hadn't noticed that he kept staring at the girl until Tyrion had kicked him in the shin. "What does she know?" Jaime's head shot up. "What?" "You kept staring at her. What does she know? What has she seen?" "Nothing." He said quickly. His sister raised her eyebrows. "Should I be jealous then? Have you developed a liking for fish? Or wolf, or whatever you call her?" Cersei laughed lightly. A sound so wrong in this place that it rang much louder than normal. Her fingers lightly ran down his arm while she grinned smugly. Jaime did not comment, he only pressed his jaw close together and kept looking out of the window. For the moment Cersei couldn't lure him with her touch. Not after what he had seen her do, what he had done or failed to do. "I spoke to Catelyn Stark." Cersei suddenly said. That got his attention. Surely Cersei hadn't paid a visit to the woman just to share her condolences. "Their Maester said the boy is stable for now. He will live if he survives the night." Jaime nodded. Suddenly Cersei grabbed his arm, her nails digging into his skin like claws. "What if he talks? What if he tells them what he saw?" Jaime turned to her, his eyes looking directly into his sister's. "He won't. He is a child. If he tells them he saw something we will tell them another thing. We can outwit a ten-year-old." "But what if he tells someone, if Robert…" she continued, ranting uncontrollably and being paranoid that they had been uncovered. "Think of it. If he tells someone… We have to make sure he doesn't. He can't. Think of Joffrey, of Myrcella, of…" Jaime closed his eyes and shook his head. He didn't want to follow her train of thoughts. He didn't want to go down that road again. His mind could be a dark place too.

"If you're asking me…" "He cannot talk." Cersei repeated and Jaime set his jaw in a tight line. "Let us see if he does then. I will not kill a child." "The boy will not talk, I will make sure of this if you prove too much of a woman to do it." Cersei hissed before she grabbed his arm once again, her fingernails digging into his skin and leaving painful marks.


End file.
